


Wolves travel in pack, right?

by lightningtrapx



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Game!Dandelion, Game!Geralt, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, alternative universe, book elements but also game elements, other characters and tags will be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24487525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningtrapx/pseuds/lightningtrapx
Summary: Have you ever wondered what it would be like, to be able to speak with yourself from another universe?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Wolves travel in pack, right?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Just a few things I want to make clear about this story:
> 
> 1\. I will be using elements of the game (obviously) when it involves characters coming from that universe  
> 2\. I will also be using the story from the books, since it is what the TV show is most close to, but a few things might change, since season 2 is not out yet and I don't know how they'll approach certain things.
> 
> After my second playthrough of the game, I inevitably found myself doing the mission I hate most in that game: portal hopping with Avallac'h, so I thought "why not make the most of it" and thus, here we are. Enjoy!

Priscilla was draped over the book, reading through their sales from the past month. She sighed and raised her head, pushing a strand of her long blond hair behind her ear. “Dandelion,” her voice called out, resonating through the large space from where she stood behind the counter, “can you check the storage to see how much wine we have left?”

The man in question appeared from under a table, brushing back the hair that got stuck to his forehead as he cleaned the floor. “Are you sure it needs checking already? Zoltan did it just last week.” He stood up fully and walked towards the counter.

“I know, but we’ve been terribly busy lately. I think we will need to restock our shelves sooner this trimester.” She leaned one arm over the wood and the other went to Dandelion’s cheek, wiping a speck of dirt that had gotten caught while he was cleaning.

Priscilla had a point. Ever since Geralt had gotten rid of Radovid, people have been going out more often. Not just humans, but now non-humans and mages roamed the streets freely, even if not everyone was happy by Nilfgaard’s occupation, no one could deny that at least emperor Emhyr was not as crazy of a tyrant as king Radovid had been growing to be. He had to thank Geralt for the help with the clientele, he supposed.

“Fine, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have a look. I need to clean downstairs as well, we don’t want any rats around the place we keep our food.” Dandelion leaned into her touch, giving the woman a coy smile. “But I’m not sure I have the strength at the moment… I might need an incentive, you know.”

She huffed a small laugh and rolled her eyes fondly. “Well, we can’t have that. Who else is going to clean this place if you’re suddenly not feeling up to it?” Priscilla pulled him in by his chin and pressed her lips softly against the poet’s. But apparently, that wasn’t enough to give him the energy he needed. Dandelion pulled back only to quickly step behind the counter, wrapping his arms around a chuckling Priscilla, who indulged his antics for a brief moment before pulling back. “Oh, no you don’t. I need to finish going through the books, and you need to finish cleaning here and going downstairs. And there’s also the rooms to clean. Tomorrow we’re going to have an early start because of the emperor’s visit, remember? The square is going to be full and we need this place clean.”

He groaned and threw his head back, looking back at her with a small pout. “Okay, but we are going to finish _this_ later as well.”

“As long as you’re done with everything by then and still feel up to it, it’s fine by me.” She smirked and pecked his lips one last time before fully pulling back and turning around, back to the book.

“My love, I am not that old just yet.” He snorted and went back to his tedious task.

It didn’t take him much longer to finish cleaning the main hall, since he was already almost done anyways. Dandelion picked up his cleaning supplies and followed down the row of stairs that was placed hidden behind a curtain, mostly so it wouldn’t peak the interest of his clients. He was humming to himself the whole time, finding time seemed to pass faster that way.

As the troubadour was cleaning the food shelves, he noticed a strange glow seemed to be forming near the wines. Now, Geralt might’ve said it was stupid of him to approach it, but he had every intention of leaving it alone once he got a closer look at it. If only the thing hadn’t sucked him right in before he could even so much as blink.

One moment, Dandelion was cleaning his tavern’s storage and the next, he was standing in the middle of what seemed to be elven ruins.

The man sighed and looked around. It was so bloody cold, honestly, what the fuck? It wasn’t quite spring yet, but it wasn’t this cold before. He caught sight of the stairs that didn’t look completely torn down and light coming from the top of it and so he did the only thing he could do, and walked towards it. A mistake, as it turned out, because there was a snowstorm going on. An extraordinarily strong, destructive snowstorm. Which made a lot of sense, so much as it didn’t. He cursed under his breath and promptly walked back towards the room he had just come out of.

Dandelion looked around helplessly, trying to find something to make a fire with. All of those years accompanying Geralt around the Continent have not been for naught, after all. Once he gathered a few twigs, he pulled the matchbox he always kept on him (just in case, you never know) and lit them up, staying as close to it as he could so as to not get burnt.

He sighed again and rubbed his hands together. Well, Dandelion thought with mild resignation, I suppose I’ll just have to wait until the storm passes.

\-----

A few hours went by, and the fucking storm was still raging out there, and things kept getting weirder. That was to be expected, strong as the storm was, it didn’t look like it was about to let up any time soon, but then suddenly, Dandelion heard footsteps, quick and heavy, coming from the snow outside and he thought two things to himself: he’s dead or he’s saved. Either way, before he could make any plan to run away or form any words to ask for help, a man reached the same small hall he was currently occupying with his small fire and his less glamorous clothes (that he only ever wore when cleaning, because he wouldn’t be caught dead in this hideous, _boring_ attire).

“Avallac’h!” Dandelion exclaimed as he recognized the elf. “What are you doing here? Where _is_ here, anyways?” He stood up and walked towards the man, who was eyeing him weirdly, a mixture between judgement and surprise, and just a tiny hint of concern.

“I should be the one asking you that. How ever did you end up in this place?” Avallac’h replied in that same voice, that, no matter what he was saying or to who he was talking to, always seemed to sound just arrogant enough that you wouldn’t waste your time trying to argue with him.

“Ah, well, as everything always seems to happen in my life, it was an accident.” He explained how he came to be in this predicament with far more details than he should’ve, only because it seemed to piss off the elf even more.

“Hmm,” Avallac’h said once Dandelion finished explaining, “interesting. I think I failed to map that one portal. It isn’t an exact prediction, I was sure there’d be some anomaly somewhere, I just didn’t expect it to be so close to where the first one was…” The elf seemed to be talking to himself now, hand on his chin as he slowly paced around.

“Wait, you mean to say you deliberately came _here_? In the middle of a killer snowstorm? Out of your own free will?” Dandelion stared at the other in disbelief. “You really are as mad as you look.”

Avallac’h turned his gaze to the poet, sighing heavily and sitting down on a structure of the ruins near where Dandelion was seated. “I suppose you will have to come with us, once the next portal opens. Not that I want to take you with, but Geralt will be positively a pain if I try to leave you here.

“That’s right, he- wait, did you say we? Geralt is coming too? Why, what’s going on?” Dandelion turned to look at the elf once again, his mind trying to wrap itself around this whole thing.

“Yes, he is. And I suppose now that you’re coming with, you’ll need to know what we’re doing too…” Avallac’h shook his head lightly before delving into the explanation. “You see, in your tavern, Geralt and I came up with a plan to take down Eredin-“

“Wait, Ere-who?” Dandelion interrupted and Avallac’h looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Eredin. An elven mage, and leader of the Wild Hunt. The ones who are after _Zirael_.”

The poet hummed in understanding, making a gesture for the other to proceed.

“Alright, well, since Geralt had already killed Imlerith – one of his generals –, Eredin only has the support of one general now, Ge’els. Unfortunately, to speak to him, we must go to _Tir Ná Lia_ , my homeland.” The man gestured with his hands as he talked, Dandelion noticed, and it’s such a strange trait for someone who always seemed so composed and organized.

“The portal you went through has lead you to this world. Unlike the portals sorceresses usually summon, these types can transport you to another dimension. I have spent months tracking them down and trying to mark the spots they’d appear in as accurately as possible. And _you_ found one by _accident_.” He huffed a nasal laugh and shook his head. “And isn’t it just my luck that it’s right in the middle of an important mission, too.”

“Ah, if I knew this was going to happen, I would’ve brought my notebook to take some notes. I could write a whole epic out of this!” Dandelion stood up in a stance, cold momentarily forgotten. “I mean, ghost riders, travelling between worlds, the elven homeland! My, I haven’t had an adventure like this since- well, since ever.” He put his hands on his hips and looked back at the Sage. “Do you have an idea of how long it might take us to get to the right world?”

“Unfortunately, no. It’s not exact. Unlike _Zirael_ , I cannot control where the portals open nor where they lead to.” Avallac’h sighed, an exasperated thought coming to mind. _However long it would’ve taken, I fear it might just be longer now._

The two of them talked about trivialities, with Dandelion asking more questions about what the land of the original benders of chaos was like, and the elf answered them as objectively as he could. It wasn’t long until they both heard a pair of heavy boots approaching the entrance of the ruins.

Geralt rushed in, his armor covered in snow, hair even whiter and a slight pant to his breath. When he opened his eyes and properly focused, his brows shot up in surprise. “Dandelion?”

The poet opened a wide smile and stood up to approach him. “The one and only, old friend.”

“Wh- How did you get here? Why?” He gaped a little, running a quick inspection to check if his old friend was okay.

Dandelion put his hand on his chest in mock offense and batted Geralt’s fussing hands away. “Well, don’t sound so happy to see me.” He huffed and gave him the same explanation he had given Avallac’h.

“Hmm, I see…” Geralt sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Just then, another portal opened and the three men directed their gaze to it. “Well, there’s no sending you back now. I guess the only way out is through.”

Dandelion nodded and followed the other two non-humans in. He couldn’t deny that a certain weight dropped in his stomach, and only partly in excitement. He wasn’t a 20-something anymore. As much as he loved adventures, he actually did know when he was in over his head, and right now that was definitely such an instance.

It was one thing following your best friend through a world you know how to get around in, but it was another thing entirely to go through unpredictable portals to places none of them knew what to expect of.

The poet took a deep breath and walked in. Geralt was right. No turning back now.

\-----

Geralt sighed in exasperation for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Jaskier had been even chattier than usual, and while he hadn’t felt truly irritated by it in years, it certainly hadn’t gotten any easier to keep up with it. “Jaskier, I’m asking for five minutes. Just five minutes of silence.”

The bard, however, gasped outragedly and turned to Geralt. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I _boring_ you with my pain, witcher?” As it turned out, he was telling a rather depressing story about how the duchess of Toussaint had yet to return his unfinished (barely started, even) collection of memoirs.

However, just as Geralt was about to roll his eyes and trade another jab at his friend, a glow emitted in front of them and three men stepped out of it.

Geralt made quick work of grabbing his sword and waning Jaskier to get back. His eyes scanned the group in front of him quickly; an elf, a scholar and–

Jaskier widened his eyes and approached them, uncaring of any threat of violence. He stared at the man in front of him, and then back at his friend. It couldn’t be, but the white hair and the yellow eyes were unmistakable. “Geralt?”

Two deep voices replied simultaneously. “Yes?”

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to make it as clear as possible for non-players, but if there is anything you didn't understand, don't hesitate to ask! I will try to upload it weekly, but I won't make any promises.


End file.
